“For I have set for you an example that
you also should do as I have done for you.”
(John 13:15)
My late mother-in-law suffered from
Alzheimer’s. One of the worst and most undignified aspects of that dread malady
was her frequent incontinence. My wife and I were visiting with her and my
father-in-law one day when Mom was quite advanced in her illness. She’d been
sitting for some time in her favorite chair when it was time to come to the table
for a meal. When we got her up, we realized she had soiled herself. She hadn’t
been aware this had happened and was dreadfully embarrassed. My wife took her
up to her bedroom to get her cleaned up. She lovingly wiped her mother down and
helped her into clean clothes. During the procedure, Mom said to her daughter, “I
can’t believe you’re wiping my butt!” My wife replied, “Why not? You used to do
it for me.”
We’re all willing to be servants to our
kids, aren’t we? We’ll feed them, bathe them, wipe up their sick, find their
lost articles of clothing, take them to school, shell out money like a loose
slot machine, listen to their complaints, and do everything in our power to keep
them healthy and happy. But someday we’ll have to relinquish our mighty
position of superiority and acknowledge that they have become our servants,
protectors, and advisors. That will be a hard day.
You see, we all have a bit of Simon Peter
in us. He glories in his love and respect for Jesus in our Maundy Thursday gospel
reading ( John 13:1-17, 31b-35), even though we’ll find that he so quickly
denies that love out of fear. He won’t let Jesus do the servant work. The work usually
done by a child or a woman or a slave is too undignified for his rabbi, he
thinks. Peter wants to make a great show of his devotion. He loves Jesus, but he’s
having a little trouble just letting Jesus love him. He keeps thinking he’s got
something to prove.
But Jesus sets him straight. “Unless I
wash you, you have no share with me” (v. 8). Peter has to come to terms with
the idea that he has no power or control over Jesus’ love. He can’t earn it
with his devotion. He can’t work hard enough to be worthy of it. He just has to
accept that Jesus loves him and is willing to do everything for him—even die on a cross.
“Could my zeal no respite know,
could my tears forever flow;
All for sin could not atone;
Thou must save, and Thou alone.”
I think before we really know how to love,
we have to know how to receive love. We have to find a way to make it not about
us. That’s why we come to the table of Holy Communion. We acknowledge one baptism for the forgiveness of sins, but Jesus commanded us to eat this meal in
remembrance of him so we would regularly be reminded how much he loves us.
We are to remember that he loved us first.
We are forgiven and blessed because of who Jesus is, not because of who we are.
When we get that, we’ll really know how to love others, and the world will get
that we are his followers.
God bless, my friend. Thanks for stopping
by.
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